Beware the Wolf with his silver tongue,And beguiling grin, your trust now won.He’ll weave his lies around your head,Spin tales of gold into his bed.

Instead my child, example findIn another of our kind:

Little Red, who one fine day,Let Wicked Wolfie have his way.And while he slept, lust satisfied,Took Granny’s pins and stabbed his eyes.Rescued Granny, ground his bones,Filled his belly full of stones.She stripped his pelt and wore it proud,Used Granny’s nightie as a shroud.Dismissed the Woodsman and his chopper,Stuffed that wolf up, good and proper.

There is a tale, told in these parts,Of a sweet, fair maiden, who eats wolves’ hearts.Take heed my child,For what this means:Not everything is as it seems.